What Dreams May Come
by SugarBeatAngel
Summary: Jacob is an ordinary teen in Springwood, just like all the others; except for the fact that he's willingly leading his classmates to their death through the man in his dreams. M for gore/murder/violence and all that good Freddy stuff.


So this was originally something I was writing for my own personal pleasure that I had zero intention of sharing. BUT then I read a really great Kingdom Hearts/Nightmare on Elm Street crossover (like, the only one on this site) that made me think maybe my fans could enjoy this as well as my KH stories.

I started writing this for two reasons…

One, there was ALWAYS a hole between when _NoES 5: The Dream Child_ ended and where _Freddy's Dead: The Final Nightmare_ picked up that bothered the HELL out of me since I was a little girl. Seriously, it bothered me. There was no real closure with Alice and Jacob and whether or not they lived or died from the end of 5 to the beginning of 6. I always sort of just assumed the "John Doe" character at the beginning of 6 WAS in fact Jacob, but there was nothing to support this idea.

The second reason is the remake of NoES that they just made. It burned my biscuits to no end and I still refuse to see it. I've heard it was wretched.

I'm a die hard fan of old school Freddy and thusly, I started this for my own gratification. Freddy does indeed live on, but not through crappy retellings of the original story. That is some major weak sauce.

Since it isn't on my priority list, I'll update when I've actually written more for it.

Enjoy it for what it is, and sweet dreams!

* * *

"_Dying in our sleep is a luxury our kind is rarely afforded. My gift to you…"_  
-Elle Driver, Kill Bill Vol. 1

... ... ...

I couldn't really tell you when this all started. I'd be at a lack of very essential knowledge to even pretend like I knew how or when this all came to be. All I know is that for as long as I can remember, something never seemed quite right with my mom's sleep patterns.

If I was scared in the middle of the night and I came to her room, she'd already be awake with the lights on and a cup of coffee in hand. She'd never put me back to bed or even let me sleep with her. We'd only just stay up to watch the sunrise and then go about our day.

Even as a little kid, I knew it was strange. Most other kids got chastised if they didn't sleep. But not me. No, it was almost like my mom didn't want me to sleep. She seemed happy in those times that I would stumble into her room at one a.m. and cuddle up in her lap.

And then I got older. I was old enough by the age of eight to notice that I didn't have a dad. I didn't have any family really, my mom and grandpa aside. Yet, there were pictures all around of an uncle I'd never met. Pictures of my mom with the man I always assumed was my father. Pictures of all sorts of people really, and none of them had I ever met face to face.

When I confronted my mom about it she was honest. My father, Dan Jordan for whom I was named, was dead. My uncle, Rick Johnson, was dead. The blonde girl always in the photos with him, Kristen Parker, was dead. All those other faces in my mom's photo wall, Debbie Stevens, Sheila Kopecky, Greta Gibbson, Mark Gray… they were dead.

And that was when I asked her how. How did so many people she know and love die? Really, how? Her answer was shocking, but it explained so much.

My mom told me that they died in their sleep.

People will tell you that dying in your sleep is a blessing. That it is a peaceful death and most aren't lucky enough to have the luxury. Well, I am here to tell you that all those mother fuckers are _dead wrong_.

Jump to today. I'm an average sixteen year old with a single parent and a bad attitude. I go to school. I come home. I do my daily routine. Nothing too incredibly out of the ordinary, right? Except of course that small thing I forgot to mention…

My classmates are dropping like flies.

Dead.

And I am 100% to blame.

Let me rewind, because I gotta tell you, there's some shit I'm about to dump on you that you will probably not believe.

Decades ago, I'm not sure how many, there was a man who liked to hurt little kids. I'm sure you've heard the story before. There's one mentally fucked up prick in every community these days, and this is no different from all those other cases. Well, maybe it is. Yeah, there's one huge factor that makes this guy's story different from all the others, but we'll get to that in a second. Now, I'm not sure how but after they found out what this guy was doing, he got off scot-free. There was some sort of technicality, an unsigned search warrant or something ridiculous. So they let the bastard go, god bless the American judicial system. Understandably, parents were pissed. So they chased the guy down and burned him alive.

After that, strange things started happening. Kids in the neighborhood started having nightmares about a burned up man in a dirty brown hat and red and green striped sweater with long claws. They tried talking to their parents about it. None of them listened. Countless lives were lost due to some really great parenting. That was when my mom's friend Kristen met a woman named Nancy Thompson. Nancy was a psychiatrist, but she had dealt with this thing first hand and she knew these kids were not making this up. Sadly she didn't live through the ordeal to convince any other adults that this was a real threat.

Kristen lived only long enough to pass on her worthless ability to call people into her dreams to my mom, Alice. It was then through my mom that things got out of hand. Anyone was fair game now for this evil man who was continuing to kill kids even in death. He killed her friends, he killed her brother, he killed her boyfriend, my father. And it was through her that he got to me.

Of course, he could never kill _us_. We were his instruments. Without us, how would he get to the others? He needed my mother to get to me. To get to me would get him to more children…

So she never slept. If she didn't sleep then he had no bridge to me.

But it was late, and it was raining. She was driving slow but she was so damn tired and it really did just happen so fast. They rushed her to the hospital. She would live, but how long she would be in the coma, they didn't know.

That was the night it started happening _to me_…


End file.
